


Wake Up Over the Fields

by ShowMeAHero



Series: The Newborn Influence Affair [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaby pays her goddaughter a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up Over the Fields

**Author's Note:**

> After an overwhelmingly positive response to the first part of this series, I decided to finish up a second one that I had been working on and post it. The girl deserves an origin story. You guys rock.
> 
> Title taken from ["The Gambler" by fun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rT-5NY83OYI).

Gaby tried to be as quiet as she possibly could as she snuck in through the front door of Illya and Napoleon’s apartment. She should have known; Illya was beside her with a gun to her head in seconds. He apologized in the next beat of her heart, holstering his weapon and shutting the front door behind her.

“Can never be too careful,” he muttered as the door clicked shut. He slid multiple locks in place and stepped back from her. “Hello.”

“Hi, Illya,” Gaby said, leaning up and waiting for him to lean down and meet her halfway so she could kiss his cheek. “How are you?”

“Well. Thank you,” Illya answered. He tapped at his thigh and looked off into the apartment. “We are both tired.”

“I can imagine,” Gaby said. She pressed a bright yellow box into Illya’s hands. Illya frowned down at it. “I can’t imagine you’ll be getting a lot of baby gifts, so allow me the pleasure of giving you at least one.”

“Thank you.” Illya motioned to the couch. “Would you like a drink?”

“Can I see my goddaughter first?” Gaby asked, shrugging off her coat. Illya set the box down on the stand beside the door and took her coat from her.

“She is asleep, but yes,” Illya answered, straightening out the coat before hanging it carefully on one of the hooks of the coat rack. Gaby slipped off her sunglasses and smiled up at Illya.

“You look good,” she said, reaching up to pat him on the cheek. “Fatherhood suits you.”

“Thank you,” Illya murmured. He motioned for Gaby to follow him before leading the way down the hall. He pushed open the door to the master bedroom, which Gaby had only seen twice before (once when they were moving in, once when she passed out in their kitchen). Napoleon was sitting up in an armchair in the corner of the room, but he was fast asleep, holding the tiniest newborn baby Gaby had ever seen close to his chest. She stopped herself from making any ridiculous sounds as she watched them.

“What did you say her name was?” Gaby asked softly, pacing a couple steps closer to get a better look of the sleeping baby’s face. Illya stayed close to her back.

“Gavriila Illyinichna,” Illya replied, and Gaby would be damned if he didn’t sound ridiculously proud. “We both gave last name. Kuryakin Solo. Four names.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Gaby murmured. She smiled up at Illya. “Gavriila?”

“For you,” Illya said, “of course. We wanted to honor you.” Illya glanced back down at his daughter. “But Russian. She will be very strong, with name like that. Napoleon says we call her _Ella_.”

“Ella,” Gaby repeated. “Ellie. It’s cute.”

“Thank you.” Illya reached down and stroked the pad of his thumb over Ella’s soft, small cheek. “She is sweet. She will grow up strong.”

“Of course she will,” Gaby agreed, and Napoleon startled awake suddenly. His jerk into wakefulness made Ella’s eyes snap open, and Napoleon groaned.

“Damn it,” he muttered, adjusting his grip on her. He looked up at found Gaby and Illya both standing over him. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hello,” Gaby said, bending over him to get a better look at the baby. Ella was already halfway back to falling asleep, blue eyes visible through the slits her eyelids made as she yawned. Gaby cooed and leaned down to lift the baby up away from Napoleon. Napoleon stretched his arms as soon as she was gone and heaved himself up out of the chair.

“She’s beautiful,” Gaby murmured, swaying back and forth. “Hello, there.”

“The pleasure’s hers, I’m sure,” Napoleon said, pulling one arm behind his back to pop his shoulder. Gaby stroked Ella’s thick hair; it curled around her fingers, black like ink.

“She looks like you,” Gaby commented to Napoleon. Illya reached down and adjusted Gaby’s hold on the baby so her head was better supported.

“Makes sense,” Napoleon replied, cracking his neck. Illya watched him with a vague interest. Napoleon tugged his sweater back into some semblance of order before working at smoothing down his hair, which was starting to defy him by curling at the ends. “It’d be a bit odd if she was blonde.”

“She has your nose,” Gaby pointed out, tapping the tip of her finger against the baby’s small nose. “And your mouth.”

“And already she has your sense of humor,” Napoleon said, tugging at a stubborn piece of hair at his temple, “because she laughed at me when I tripped earlier.”

“Babies so small do not laugh,” Illya replied automatically, tipping one of Gaby’s elbows up. Gaby raised an eyebrow at him, and he backed off.

“Well, she was definitely mocking me,” Napoleon said. Illya pulled his hand away from his temple and kissed the spot. Gaby aww’d at them, and Illya’s cheeks turned red.

“Really?” Napoleon asked, sidestepping Illya to grab a blanket out of the bassinet next to their bed. “We have a child, and you’re going to act piqued when you get caught kissing my forehead?”

“Let him be, Napoleon,” Gaby admonished, turning and leaving the bedroom. Illya followed at once, most assuredly hovering, Napoleon behind at a more leisurely pace. Gaby took a seat on the couch in the living room, Illya right beside her, attention nearly completely focused on Ella, who seemed to have fallen back asleep. Napoleon took the armchair and set his feet on the coffee table next to a chess board with a half-finished abandoned game left on it.

“How do you two feel?” Gaby asked, once she was settled in her spot. Illya situated one long arm behind her on the sofa. Napoleon yawned, resting his head against the back of the armchair.

“Tired,” Napoleon answered. “More like exhausted, actually. And worried all the time, which is a new one. So, overall, pretty great.”

Gaby glanced up at Illya. “Pretty great,” he echoed, and Gaby smiled.

“I’m so happy for you,” Gaby said softly, and Napoleon grinned at her. “Waverly wonders when you’ll be back in the field.”

“Can we get a damn night’s sleep first?” Napoleon asked, dropping his head back against the armchair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Christ, let the ink dry on her birth certificate.”

“He knows how keen you both are to be back at work,” Gaby pointed out, and Illya and Napoleon made eye contact simultaneously, with eerie accuracy. After a few moments of silence in which Illya and Napoleon seemed to be having a conversation entirely inside their heads, Illya turned to Gaby.

“Soon,” he said, “but not yet.”

Ella shifted in Gaby’s hold, making a soft noise and turning her head. Illya tensed, watching her, and Napoleon leaned forward. When she did not make any more noise and went still in her sleep again, both of them relaxed. Gaby laughed.

“You both need to calm down,” Gaby teased, and Napoleon raised an eyebrow at her before rubbing both hands over his face.

“You have child,” Illya grumbled, watching Ella settle back into sleep. “Then tell us to calm down.”

“It will be a cold night in Hell when I have a baby, Illya,” Gaby said. She shifted so Illya could better see his daughter’s face.

“I thought the same thing,” Napoleon said, voice slightly muffled by his own hands.

“Yes, well, I have one thing you do not have,” Gaby said. “Commitment.”

Napoleon squinted at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “A different kind of commitment, it seems.”

“So it seems,” Gaby replied. She glanced back down at Ella, who was fast asleep, tiny chest rising and falling. Gaby settled her slim hand on Ella’s torso, wrist-to-fingertip covering the baby from her neck down to her knees. “She is very small.”

“She was early,” Napoleon informed her, folding his arms behind his head as he watched Ella while simultaneously pretending not to watch her. “Bit _too_ early, but she made it.”

“She is fighter,” Illya added. “Like her fathers.” Illya rapped his own chest with the knuckles of his closed fist. “Strong.”

Gaby looked from Ella up at Napoleon, who smiled at her - a real smile, one she had found herself on the receiving end of more and more often since they met. She turned to Illya; the corner of his mouth quirked up when they made eye contact. Gaby looked back down at Ella, who yawned in her sleep before turning her head slightly. Napoleon and Illya both watched her closely. Gaby laughed and settled in with her goddaughter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine going through life with that name.
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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